


Idle Hands

by EdgeLaur



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Clothing Kink, Established Relationship, Humor, Inappropriate Behavior, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Humor, inappropriate use of bottles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 13:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9125242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgeLaur/pseuds/EdgeLaur
Summary: Jack loves Gabe's hoodies so much, Gabe forces him to wear his hoodie all day... and ONLY his hoodie.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jive/gifts).



> This is my secret Santa for the year, gifted to [jive](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jive/pseuds/jive)! I hope you find this hilarious, and it makes a sweet ending to a crazy holiday. LOVE YOU BAB.
> 
> Also for something stupidly fluffy and silly, it's also very explicit. Such a weird mashup. Need more embarrassing 'what could possibly go wrong?' sex scenarios in fic.

Jack Morrison knows that Gabriel Reyes has had the last straw as soon as the door slams closed on their private apartment.

“Jack seriously, this is _the last straw!”_ Gabriel practically yells, stalking into the living room where Jack is laying on the couch. Jack tries to ignore Gabriel as best he can and instead sinks into the long piece of furniture, willing his body to become one with the plush fabric. He didn't think Gabe would be back already, didn't think he would storm in to see Jack spread out on the pullout recliner, watching cartoons, eating grocery store level pizza, wearing loose black sweats, old socks, and, of course…

“ _Hoodie_ , Jack! _My good hoodie!_ Really, are you kidding me? _Again?”_

Jack responds by simply hunching into the damning garment, hood pulled up over his head, hands obstinately shoved into the front pockets. The pulled up zipper hides most of the Strike Commander’s face, but can't hide the blush creeping up his cheeks and across his nose. The hoodie doesn't fit Jack well; it tends to ride up his thin waist just to bunch around his shoulders, where the fabric stretches to accommodate his differing body type. Still, this isn't the first time Gabriel has caught him like this. Jack’s legs fidget as he refuses to make eye contact, mumbling out a few defensive words that put up the flimsiest of shields.

“It's my first day off in almost three years Gabe, and you were _supposed_ to be back tomorrow when you wouldn't have ever known—”

“That you'd’ve destroyed the elastic in _another_ one of my custom sweatshirts? I think the damage speaks for itself. You’ve stretched out _every hoodie I have,_ Jack!” Gabriel storms over, stopping at their coffee table to pick up the remote. The cartoon omnic pauses with a button press, replaced instead with the bulk of the scowling Blackwatch commander. Hands on hips, body leaned forward, Gabriel does his best to catch Jack's averted gaze. “Your massive shoulders kill every hoodie I have, and I've told you every damn time: If you _want_ a hoodie, we can get them specially tailored. Just like our armor and our coats and _everything else_ we wear.”

Jack's response was simply to sink lower in the fabric, pulling the drawstring together. A small, muffled response came from the hood. It only serves to annoy Gabe further: lurching forward, he easily swats Jack's hands out of the way, yanking open the hood with an annoyed snarl.

“What was that Jack? Didn't quite catch it.” Exposed, Jack merely pouts, arms crossing.

“I said it's not the same. And I like your hoodies better.”

Gabriel runs a hand over his face, taking a steadying breath. Jack's face immediately pouts, hoping it will be enough to win Gabe over. It almost works. _Almost_.

Gabriel quickly stands up, turning on his heel, frown still plastered firmly to his face.

“Fine, Jack,” he says, his hand waving through the air dramatically “Fine. If you want the hoodie, you can keep it.” He turns back to the man glued to the couch, a wicked grin replacing his earlier frown. “Under one condition; it's all you get to wear for the rest of the day.”

It was now Jack's turn to frown, brows knitting together. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me: the hoodie. And _only_ the hoodie.” Gabriel stands there triumphant, like he’s just won the lottery with this trick. Jack's face flushes red, indignant. “So come on. Strip. Or give the hoodie back.”

Jack huffs, eyes flitting around as of there is someone else in the room, knowing full well it's just the two of them. He fidgets; scowls at Gabriel as his face heats. This is some childish blackmail, a low blow. Jack lets Gabriel know just that as he stands up, angrily pulling his socks and pants off.

“You're a cruel man, Gabriel Reyes. Has anyone ever told you that?” Gabe's look of glee as Jack pulls his clothes off was even worse, and only fuels his angry fire. “A cruel, terrible man who likes cruel, terrible jokes.”

“Yeah, but worth it in every way,” Gabriel says, slowly motioning for the articles that Jack was removing. Jack stops at his boxers, arms crossing. But Gabriel shakes his head and motions to the underwear. Jack’s jaw all but drops.

“ _Really_ , Gabe?”

“The bargain is _everything but the hoodie_ , Jackie. Now come on.”

Reluctantly, angrily...Jack pulls his underwear off, handing it over to Gabriel. Gabe, for all his composure, can't seem to stop giggling. The draft makes Jack's skin prickle, and he sinks into the too-stretched hoodie to try and find some warmth. It hardly covers his hip bones from riding so far up his shoulders. He stands and sulks awkwardly, only moving when Gabe takes a swipe at his bare ass.

“Hey! Quit it!” Jack complains, face heating. The hoodie is only so effective at hiding his bulk. Gabriel laughs, going over to the laundry chute and tossing Jack's clothes in. He then proceeds to go to the bedroom, punching a code into the door. Once it clicks, he comes back. His smug grin has yet to flee his face.

“I'll only quit once you do,” Gabe says matter-of-factly, giving Jack an up-down look before continuing. “And just to make sure you hold up your end of the bargain, I locked the bedroom door—”

“Hey! You overrode my code? GABE, THAT'S NOT—”

“Fair? All’s fair in love and war, Sunshine, and you just declared both today,” he says, cutting Jack off. “And you're not going and knicking clothes from the bedroom, sorry. And no towels either— that's cheating.”

Jack wants to complain. He follows Gabriel around as he prepares to leave, sputtering out excuses and nonsense and upset noises. All the while Gabriel just replies with “no”, “sorry,” and “if you're that upset just give me the hoodie already,” an offer which Jack never takes, despite how much easier it would make his life right now. For all his whining, Jack’s too invested and stubborn to give in and call off the deal. He's already vowed to see this through to the end; causing Gabriel any extra grief is just a taste of payback in his opinion.

“Alright Jack,” Gabriel said casually, as if his boyfriend wasn't standing in front of him half naked and lightly shivering from exposure. “I'll be back later. I have to debrief and then head over to the training rooms; unlike you I still have my duties because I don't _get_ a day off. So if you're good and don't skimp out, I'll …” Gabriel stops, thinking for a second, fingers drumming against the counter. “I'll get you something _nice.”_

Jack just shrugs, chewing on his cheek. His face flushes thinking of what something “nice" would entail, _could_ entail. He's almost curious enough to ask, but he doesn't push it. Gabriel enjoys surprising Jack, after all, and Jack tends to enjoy Gabriel's surprises.

“Sounds fine,” Jack says cooly. “I'll hold up my end of the deal if you hold up yours.”

“Alright. I'll be back. Don't do anything stupid okay?”

“Mmmm, no promises on that.”

“Hey, it's _your_ tabloid headline—”

“Don't you have someplace to be?” Jack asks tersely, and Gabriel just snickers. He plants a swift kiss to Jack's cheek, right before dashing out the door, light as a ghost. Jack grins lopsidedly and can feel the blush blossom where Gabriel kissed him.

Both soon dissipate, however, when he looks around the room and realizes he's half naked and alone and trapped in his own apartment.

It's gonna be a long day, he can already tell.

\------

The first few hours aren't as bad as Jack thought they would be. Sitting at home naked is usually a casually liberating experience, and he decides to spend it sprawled out, vegging, eating snacks and catching up on his favorite shows. It was nice not having to worry about the rest of the world, even if just for a day or two. Gabriel had been telling him to have a “staycation” for months now anyway constantly reminding Jack that he was working too hard and stressing himself out too much. And for a whole chunk of time, Jack agrees: this is great! He could get used to being lazy. Maybe he actually _could_ retire to somewhere nice and warm when he turned 50.

Or not.

It wasn't long before Jack was fidgeting. He finished his snacks and a single episode and already his hands itched to work. His mother had always warned him “idle hands are the Devil's playground,” and while he doesn't take stock in religion, he agrees that he does tend to get into trouble when he's bored. Solitary confinement would kill Jack Morrison in a week. So instead of idling about he paces, gears turning as he grabs paper and pencil, planning to keep himself busy by thinking up new schematics, new plans for the strike team, maybe some new simulations to have recruits run through. Except now, his mind is blanking: he can't focus on the paper, he writes ideas down only to throw them aside. A small pile of scraps grows next to the coffee table; Jack's pencil taps against the blank sheet while his leg bounces. Not used to the sensation of free balling, he reaches down, adjusting himself as his leg rocks against himself. He sighs out and closes his eyes, idly stroking his dick. He dips his nose into the hoodie; the sharp smell of Gabe was stronger here, and his mind immediately focuses on it in a way it never could on a boring piece of paper. Before Jack knows it, he's half hard against his hand. It's only when he groans rather loudly that Jack snaps back to reality, eyes opening and hand pulling away. _Bad idea_ , he tells himself. He doesn't know when Gabriel will be coming back and he isn't sure how Gabe will feel once he learns Jack jerked himself off and then cleaned it off with his hoodie. Jack has to admit though; it's the ultimate payback for his current situation. His dick twitches at the idea and his hand aches to grab for it, again reminding himself how masturbating would be a bad idea. Besides, this is his only piece of clothing until Gabriel comes back. He can't afford to lose it by jerking off in it.

And yet...

Jack feels his face heat as a mental image sneaks unbidden into his brain; of Gabriel coming home to a naked Jack Morrison looking sheepish with a shit eating grin, handing over a semen-soiled sweatshirt. It really _is_ the perfect payback, the perfect way to wipe that smug look right off of Gabriel Reyes’ pretty face.

Idle hands are the Devil's playground, indeed.

Jack’s leg starts bouncing again as he huffs out a laugh, focusing on the look on Gabriel's face once he learns just how dirty the sweatshirt Jack hands back actually is. Jack then imagines Gabriel grabbing the hoodie and taking a long whiff of it, as if he could pull the essence of Jack out of the hoodie by the power of his nostrils alone. He imagines those blown, dark eyes looking right back into Jack's soul, drowning him and claiming him.

Jack gasps as he tugs hard on the thickening cock between his legs. He swallows thickly: he doesn't remember grabbing for it again. His imagination had been so vivid, he had forgotten everything else, if just for a second. He bites his lip, trying to ground himself as he leans back into the couch, getting more comfortable.

Well, it may be a bad idea, but Jack's too invested now to turn back now. Time to see this plan through to the end.

Jack tugs experimentally at his dick, feels it thicken in his hand. He spreads his thumb over the head, pulling the foreskin back a bit, smirking when he realizes he's already wet. Gabriel always had a way of getting Jack excited, even if it's only through the man's hoodie. The further Jack slips down into it, the more intoxicating the scent of Gabriel becomes. Jack sighs and shivers, breathing deep and indulging in the idea of Gabriel being here, next to him. Running his hands up Jack’s sides, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Telling Jack how good he looks, how Gabriel only hates Jack wearing it because it hugs his deltoids and pecs so nice he's jealous. Because it shows off just enough tummy to get Gabriel wanting nothing more than to wrap his hands around him, pulling him flush to Gabriel's hips. Telling Jack, in his most desperate tone, just how badly he wants to fuck Jack when he's in his hoodie.

Jack moans, dick arching into his palm. He pulls and presses hard, imaging Gabriel's dick there against it, the hot pressure of it. God, he could just see it now, the outline of it hard and ready in his combat pants. Jack tugs at his dick, thrilling in the heat collecting low in his stomach. The smell of sex and Gabriel is overwhelming.

God forbid, Jack wants nothing more than to get fucked in this wonderful, delicious hoodie.

Jack's hand idly slips off his dick, dips lower, past his balls, until he's opening himself up with a finger slick with precum. In his mind, Gabriel whispers husky encouragements, the feeling of his breath tickling against his earlobe.

_“That's it, cariño, spread yourself so nice for me, you look so beautiful like this.”_

They were recycled phrases, ones he heard often that were just as effective now as they were then. Jack rolls his head and takes a breath, positioning himself better. A second slicked finger joins the first, opening him up and leaving him aching for more. His other hand makes it's way to his dick, stroking it as his fingers explore deeper into his ass. The feeling is as nice as the fantasy, but it's not long before Jack finds himself wanting more.

By the time his third finger is working in with the others, Jack is licking his lips, pulling himself out of his imagination and coming back to the apartment. It's fast becoming apparent that his fingers aren't going to be enough, even if he’s working his dick. He wants something up his ass and he's wanting it _now_. Preferably, it would be Gabe's own penis, wet and hard and ready, all for Jack.

Since that's unavailable, though, he'll have to get creative.

Jack takes his fingers out of his ass and stands up, drawing in a steadying breath. He moves to the bedroom: the few toys and lube him and Gabe kept in there would work just fine.

Except the bedroom door is locked.

_Fuck._

He stands in the hallway awkwardly, hands in the hoodie pockets and dick leaking between his legs. Jack curses under his breath, detouring for the guest bathroom. _Surely_ they've both been resourceful enough to put some extra lube in there, just in case. Jack rummages behind the mirror as soon as he gets into the second bathroom, his persistent dick reminding him to hurry up. Success; Jack finds a small bottle, shaking it experimentally. There isn't a lot inside, but it'll be enough.

One item down. One to go. Jack pads back out to the living room, mind cycling through their apartment inventory. He is certain that they don't keep any dildos outside of the bedroom unless they're brought out for use. So what could he possibly…?

He spies a glass bottle on counter, left out from last night and forgotten. It was a cheap beer; nothing more than a nostalgic drink for Jack since the soldier enhancement program.

Jack wets his lips. He glances around the apartment as if to make sure he's entirely alone before walking over and examining the glass longneck. He shakes it; empty. A quick rinse at the sink cleans it out, flushing any remnants down the drain.

Somewhere in the back of his brain he can already hear Gabriel's low laugh.

_“You know Jack, whenever I asked if you were thirsty, this isn't exactly what I meant.”_

Jack huffs a laugh back, acknowledging his own joke. He takes the bottle and the lube back to the couch, using the hoodie’s fabric to wipe off any remaining moisture.

Gabriel's voice returns, a little softer, more cautious this time.

“ _Don't do anything stupid, okay?”_

“It's not stupid, its practical,” he mumbles to himself as he lubes the bottleneck. His dick is fat and leaking, but he ignores it. It will be worth it if he can pull this off.

“Besides, my hand is forced. No dildos. This will have to do.”

He lubes his fingers back up again, testing how wet his ass is. It dried a bit during the search for an acceptable makeshift dildo, but it quickly relaxes and moistens under his touch. It isn't long until Jack was ready to go again, imagining Gabriel's beard tickling against his beard.

“ _Well, you've had more stupid ideas, at least,”_ the Gabriel in his head reminds him. Jack laughs, turning the bottle in his hand. If he thinks about it too much, it's probably also not the weirdest thing he's stuck up his ass either. But the bottle is clean, smooth, and ribbed around the bottle opening. It should work fairly well for what Jack's needing.

So as they say, no time like the present.

Jack presses the lip of the bottle to his asshole, sucking in a breath as lube met lube and the bottle easily slipped inside. It’s colder than expected, a momentary shock to his system. Despite this, he wills his muscles to relax, steadying himself as the smooth glass rubs along his sensitive ass. Jack works in carefully, his other hand squeezing and tugging at his dick. It takes a few tries to line it up just right but as soon as it does, the pleasure shoots up his spine like a lightning bolt. Heat colors his cheeks and he groans out, his head rolling back as he works both is dick and his ass.

Jack buries his face into the neck of the hoodie, eyes screwing shut as he was surrounded by the scent of Gabriel Reyes. It was easy then to imagine Gabe there, watching him with a devilish glint in his eye, eyeing Jack as he jerks himself off and fucks himself with a glass bottle. Gabriel always loves watching Jack get wrecked, and for a second, he's almost sad Gabe isn't actually here to see him like this. _Almost._

The bottle presses against his prostate, the ribs rubbing against it, making Jack squirm and stretch and push the bottle in deeper. He moans out when he feels the main body of the bottle slip inside, the lube making the glass extra slippery. He does his best to keep a good hold on the bottle, his mind drowning in thoughts of Gabriel fucking him further into the hoodie. He works the bottle out an inch, tugging and playing with his dick all the while.

The next time he thrusts in, the bottle hits home. With a soundless gasp, Jack comes into the fabric, a triumphant blush spreading across his face as his whole body clenches tight. Slowly, he comes down from the high, catching his breath as he lets out a small laugh. Pulling the hoodie off to clean himself off the rest of the way, Jack can't help but imagine the scene in the next few hours. Jack, handing over Gabe’s jizzed-wrecked hoodie, his smug smirk as he catches the look on Gabriel's face when he comes back to see…

Jack pauses. He shifts and adjusts in his seat. He feels his pulse quicken and his mouth run dry.

_“Well, shit.”_

_\------_

Gabriel Reyes makes his way back to the apartment a few hours later. He comes in, a plastic-covered package draped over his forearm.

“Hey Jack, surprise. I figured you've had enough of being underdressed, so I picked you up a new suit. You had the day off, so I figured we could go out, have a night of it; grab some dinner and a see one of those new omnic movies… What are you doing?”

Jack is sitting on the couch innocently watching Gabe's entrance. He hadn't moved since Gabe walked in, and he didn't really have any plans to, at least not yet. Gabe's hoodie was still off, covering his lap and naked torso. He shifts gently, smiling sheepishly. Only a minute had elapsed since Gabe’s return and he could already feel the blush rising in his cheeks again.

“Nothing. Just sitting here. Waiting for you.”

Gabriel immediately looks suspicious. He narrows his eyes, watching Jack carefully. He puts the suit down on a chair, moves into the kitchen.

“You sure you didn't do anything stupid?” Gabe asks gently, accusingly. He checks over the counters and sink.

“Stupid? What? _No._ Gabe. _Please_.” Jack scoffs loudly back, laughing, but still doesn't get up from his seat on the couch.

“Alright, so why don't you come over here and see your suit? I got you a hunter green shirt, your favorite.”

Jack swallows visibly. He shifts in his seat, fingers clenching the hoodie's fabric.

“Well. Uh.”

Gabe looks at him. He frowns.

“Jack…”

It's an accusing, irritated tone. It makes Jack grip the hoodie even more, a stupid giggle bubbling up under his lips.

“Well I hope you didn't make any reservations—”

“ _Jack…”_

_“_ —since we'll need to break out the drinks early—”

“Oh my god.”

_“_ —because I need your help getting a bottle out of my ass.”

“ _GODDAMNIT JACK!_ ”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments! Hope everyone has a great new year~


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